The Phoenix and the Griffin

1088iii


Círdan brought the two surviving royal houses of the Rohmë Elves, Tur-anion and Ar-Feiniel, together under a shared roof for the first time since their feud. He took council from Elrond, Celeborn, Galadrial and Thranduil then sat long and thought hard.

Messengers went out a year later to the two proud and bloody houses. “Bring yourselves and bring your children those who are unmarried and unbetrothed. There is a death toll for any bloodshed spilt under my roof.”

Maybe, Círdan thought, maybe one of these young ones can bring them together. Maybe the young ones will find their love dwelling in their foes’ house. Maybe in what had originated the feud can bring about its conclusion.

The Tur-anion was the first to arrive. Saeros and Elenriel, Duke and Duchess with their two sons in tow; the counts Beren and Mithrond. AND surprise of surprises Amaras, Saeros’ bastard. The bastard thrown sixty years earlier was the best of his sire and was more impressive in form than his two legitimate half-brothers who looked frail in comparison.

Amaras followed the family atop a smoke coloured stallion. His sable hair blew back from a face high cheek boned and sapphire eyed. He swung down from the saddle and slung back his cloak to reveal a broad chest, and muscular arms, legs dressed in dark brown. He smiled at the stable elf who ran forward to take his horse; smiled and said something.

Círdan did not know this young ellon, being bastard he had been kept out of Elenriel’s sight for the hurt it caused her, so to see him now was a great astonishment and Círdan wondered why this change. He had heard of him, kind things and aside from the circumstance of his birth, no scandal touched him. However; no respectable family would have him, he remained bachelor.

~~~~~~~~~
He had stopped to let his horse drink from the small creek. He sat musing, listening to the birds sing in the branches of the small forest. It would be good to be home; he had spent two years in the court of Elrond; his obligation finally finished. Now he would be free to do as he wanted, his days would be his own, unstructured and carefree.

A splash on his right turned his head and he found himself staring at an elleth atop a dark gray horse. She smiled, gave a dip of a nod and let her horse bury its nose in the cold running water. The early morning sun slanted through the thick canopy of leaves and lit the deep gold of her hair. A Dore Rohmë.

“La!!!” A masculine voice called and she held a gloved hand up, forefinger over lips that curled in a smile; he smiled back. They remained frozen, listening as the rider moved in the opposite direction through the heavy undergrowth. She nodded her thanks and kicked her horse across the stream. He followed.

She paused at the edge of the forest looking at the meadow and the empty road that cut through the tall, late summer grass. She looked at him again; he was the most beautiful adan she had ever seen. Eyes of blue and green ringed in dark lashes set in a face graced with high cheekbones and generous mouth. His deep brown hair blew across his face and he swiped at it impatiently.

“Race me,” she whispered, and motioned with her chin, “to the cross road.”
He nodded.

And off she went; an arrow from a bowstring.

“Yah,” he dug his heels into the flanks of his horse and streaked after her. “Faster, Widower, faster, do not shame me today.” He urged the stallion and they drew neck and neck.

The elleth smiled, face beside the neck of her horse. At the crossroad, they turned in a wide circle, side by side and brought their horses to a stand still, she looked down the road at the group of riders who walked toward them their pennants snapping overhead announced them; Ar-Feiniel.

“Your family,” he asked breathless with their race.
“Yes.”
“Then I will leave you to their safety.”
“Oh? Was I in danger?”

He smiled a brilliant smile, “Not with me near.”
“I can deal a fair blade; fair enough til help arrived.” She smiled back.

He looked at the sword and long knives strapped to her back.
“Then they are not decorations? Or form of intimidation?”
She laughed, drew her right leg over the pommel, “I wear jewels as ornamentation, and you can always find someone who will test your bluff. Best to present yourself truly, and let others decide if these are decorations or for what they are.”
“I would not know what to think of you.”
She smiled.
“Is your name La?” he laughed.
“No, but one my brothers, father call me.”
“May I call you La?”
“What should I call you?”
“Húndúr Tur-anion.” He waited for a negative reaction.
She peered at him, “Is it so dark? Your heart?”
He blinked, “My Anya thought so…”
“Are you going to Círdan?” He laughed again with her startling edifice of innocence, “Be part of his effort to reconcile the houses?”
“Yes, of course. Are you and your family not bid to go as well?”
“Hmmm. Am reconsidering it at the moment.” He looked her over quickly. “You do not hate us? After all….”
“Do I seem to dislike you Húndúr?”
“No you do not, but your family? How do they land?”
“Badly,” she grinned.
“Then I must ride on, they draw closer.”
“Must you?” She looked over her shoulder, and then back to him her face was one of disappointment.
“Igen, there is a tendency for insults to fly between foes and while I am not easily stirred to violence I have a low tolerance for insults, especially before one such as yourself.”
“If it were not so, I would ride with you La, truly,” he leaned over his saddle. He turned his horse; “I would have liked to study you more. I will think long on you and today. Perhaps we will meet again. Til then, do not change too much.”
“Til then, Dark Heart.”

He backed his horse beside hers and leaned quickly, caught her chin in his hand and kissed her softly. She sat frozen, eyes wide and a blush came into her cheeks.
He licked his lips, sucked his bottom lip to taste her, “Yes, I will think very long on you.” He kicked the horse and galloped away.

“Who was that?” Her brother asked as he trotted up, watching the rider now a distant speck.
“A dark heart heading home.” Phaila answered softly.
“What?”
“Nothing.”